The Fall of the Rebel Angels
by Zaerix
Summary: AU. Batman and his former protegé turned Nightwing discovers the reign of a new type of drug, red and deadly that's beginning to overturn the streets of Gotham. It's origin twisted in conspiracy and secrets, and the dawn of heroes are being doubted - who gets to serve justice? A NightwingxOC that was initially inspired by BvS.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: So this here is a fic mainly inspired by thenpainting mentioned by Lex Luthor in BvS: orginally an engraving by Gustave Doré's The Fal of the Rebel Angels, I use it as a starting point to explore the world surrounding our beloved heroes, especially our al time favourite Nightwing.

Enjoy! I'll be posting the first two chapters, so comment to let me know it goes!

 **CHAPTER 1**

She stared up at the painting, focusing on the light that fell upon the angel's back and the rays that shimmered down against the falling angels below, bodies entangled and wings stretched. It spoke good versus evil, light versus dark, God versus Man. Her eyes studied the angel that had a sword in hand, driving away the condemned soldiers of God, their bodies falling from heaven towards the earth like a waterfall. It wasn't merciful - it was war and destruction painted in the most grotesque colours, contrasting with the light that came from heaven, all golden and ethereal. There was something about this painting that she loved. Not only was it the beauty of the brush strokes or its soft and pastel touch - the chiaroscuro was wonderfully done. The shadows from the angels below can be immediately turned upside down - so that the light from heaven seems like the cracking earth - and the falling angels appearing like demons rising in the sky. Nicole was glad that she got to see Luthor's private collection. This was the one painting of his she's got to see, despite the fact she's not an entirely big fan of LexCorp's shady business or its CEO Lex Luthor himself. He did a fantastic job however of making it his prized possession, certainly knowing how to make it look grand and expensive with two spotlights against its surface where it's hanged upon a red velvet wall. To express its grandeur - it even has its own separate showing room. She stood before the massive painting in the middle of the dimly lit room, so quiet a pin drop can be heard.

Which is why it was impossible for her to not hear the man she didn't notice stand next to her.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" he said, a deep and masculine voice.

Nicole was startled, though she refrained from letting out a gasp, and turned her head towards the man who spoke.

"Uh - yes." She finally managed to say, looking beside her. She studied him, a sliver of light lighting up the left side of his face, his profile only visible but his charming smirk evident, a defined nose and a pair of deep blue eyes which Nicole knew would take a woman's by her knees. "Yes, it's a masterpiece. The Fall of the Rebel Angels by-"

"Gustave Doré." he finished. He turned his head towards me and flashed me a smile. "I'm not an expert, but I know a thing or two about art history." Well dressed in a tuxedo fixed up with a bowtie, he dressed and postured as if he was one of those rich kids. But there was something else about him - something that didn't care about wealth or reputation - instead she saw a playful glint in his eyes. Like what you would see in a child.

She smiled and looked away from his gaze, hoping he wouldn't notice her timid nature. She's become denial about romance - what good will it do? Besides, the reason why she's here is to just enjoy a good piece of painting. He spoke again, and somehow Nicole just wanted him to keep his mouth shut, like how you want to lock away a guilty conscience.

"British, huh? What brings you all the way here to Gotham City?" he asked, and shrugged. "It's not like it's the most appealing city in the East Coast. What with the robberies, hold-ups, crime and more crime - I don't see why-"

"Did I do something to you?" Nicole remarked, giving a slight laugh to make sure he knew it was a harmless joke.

The man grinned, an assurance that he took no offence. "I'm just saying lady - Gotham doesn't seem like the typical tourist spot."

"I've been living in Metropolis for around 2 years now. I come to Gotham once in awhile - and trust me I can be street-smart. The east London neighbourhood doesn't take things too kindly, exactly the same way as this city does." Nicole never understood herself why she moved away from home. In fact, moved away from London when she was 18 and got an offer from Oxford University to study Biochemistry. Seeming hesitant at first to study in such a nationally prestigious school, she admits that settling in was difficult but being far away from such a dull life made her enjoy. So throughout her life, she took on people of many sorts; from the harassing alcoholics in the streets and messy pub fights to the rich snobs who tried to humiliate her and the much smarter students who challenged her intelligence. There was no-one she wasn't used to already.

"So I take it you're tough. One of those delicate on the outside, rock hard on the inside sort of gal, aren't you?" he said, with a slight nudge of his elbow on her arm.

Nicole smiled tucking a strand behind her ear, taking a peek at the boy beside her. "Well if you put it that way… Sure." She could feel his eyes on her, even as she faces the painting studying the cracked lines of the drying oil paint as it withered through time - trying to distract herself from the idea of him watching her intently. Maybe introducing ourselves will be a good idea to break some ice. She held out her hand, the loose bangles on her wrist making a melodic chime that reverberated throughout the room.

"Nicole Lago." he took her hand and shook it gently. "Who are you?"

"Dick Grayson."

"Don't blow your cover, Birdwatcher."

Sometimes having someone speak to you in your ear can often feel like your own brain animately speaking instructions aloud, telling you that it's your time to talk, eat, walk. You almost feel like you could be one of those mad men in Arkham Asylum. Oh the people you could meet in that loon-town. What's even worse is having Bruce Wayne speak into your ear. He's like the super-ego to your id. A Jiminey Cricket. Your damn conscience always being the better than you.

"Relax, Mr. Malone. I got this. Don't you remember the countless of times you've brought me into these hell holes?" Dick replied. He didn't have to worry too much about his voice being too loud. It was already covered by the buzz of clinking wine glasses, the chatter of the rich folk, and the awful sound of Mozart. Not that Mozart was awful. But Mozart in a party is a no-no. He wove his way through the crowds of elegantly dressed people, friends of friends of friends of Lex Luthor's friends. So many that he probably had too many invitations printed out, and just invited random high-profile elites; the Prime Minister of Austria to the Mayor of Gotham himself.

"Focus." he heard Bruce say through the receiver, a tone of warning in his voice.

"What are we actually looking for here?" He continued to walk through an endless number of rooms, some still containing the few socialites and others empty and filled with trophies, heads of stags hung high and below them the rifle used to hunt them down. Anything to feed Luthor's ego.

"A package. All my sources call it the Carrier - meant to have some kind of radiation coming off of it. Right now my tracker gives us nothing."

"So we're looking for a box wrapped in brown paper and string? What is this Carrier? A nuclear weapon?"

"I don't know. Just keep going down this corridor. I think you're close - there's a room on the left that shows a lot of it in my reciever."

Dick sighed. "You know when you admit defeat you still manage to look like you've not been defeated? That's really annoying."

He walked down the corridor just as Bruce told him to do, his eyes wandering up to the ceiling, engravings of planets, solar systems and galaxies on marbled ceiling. The chatter died down behind him as he walked on further. There was a pair of mahogany doors at the left side of the corridor, one open and one closed, both at least three times his height and it had more engravings of constellations and what Dick recognised to be..."Planet Krypton? What is it with his obsession with the aliens, man?"

"It's behind this door, Birdwatcher."

"Copy." He readjusted his bowtie and stood at the entrance of the open door. The room was huge, almost the size of a football field and showcasing this one painting. A painting with angels in them. And stood before it was a girl who was looking up at the painting, the silhouette of her figure only visible.

"You're telling me the package is the painting? How am I meant to carry that around - it's like 10 feet tall." he whispered.

"No… that painting is too farther up the room. There's no radiation signals coming near the wall where it should be. It's directly coming from the middle."

Dick furrowed his brows and sighed in aggravation, "It's a fucking girl, Mr. Malone. She's the Carrier."

Nicole fished through her bag, for the keys to her apartment. It took about an hour and a half to get from Gotham back to Metropolis by car, with the ferry from Metropolis Docks being the shortest route. It was just past midnight, and she took longer than expected at Lex's party.

A friend from biotech labs convinced her to go as a plus one. Marjorie was far from being an actual friend, and so Nicole would rather class her as an acquaintance. Ever since she moved from England, she's never had a chance to make real friends. In fact - friends back home rarely do contact her anymore. Being alone was never really a problem for Nicole anyway, it was just what she preferred most of the time. Which is why she never understood why Marjorie asked her to be her plus one. And upon asking how she even came to know a multimillionaire tycoon, Nicole was only given wiggling eyebrows, and a wink followed by a nudge, and so she can only assume they had some one night stand. Turns out Marjorie's going to end up ditching her anyway for her boyfriend that just came back to town and surprise, surprise - you can't invite your boyfriend as a plus one to a guy's party that you cheated on him with. Nicole didn't favour complications, but seeing how she really wanted to get out and do something in her spare time - apart from focusing on her research - why not just go to Lex Luthor's party? She even got to meet the host, a shake of a hand, a compliment there and a smile.

"You do look lovely tonight Miss Lago - I'm not sure why Marjorie hasn't introduced us before." Lex said, a wine glass in hand and an intense gaze that made her feel a bit uncomfortable.

Of course even the dress was borrowed from Marjorie - and it was too extravagant than what she would usually go for. Gold, strapless and one that hugged her waist, a cut along the length of the dress teasing a bit of skin from her right leg. She swore to herself that she would never agree to go to such parties again. Nicole just wasn't made up for fancy talk and socialising with one hundred people at once. Which is how she came to find Lex's private collection of art art. She loved art - no matter how she was a scientist, she was also a painter. The feel of control when using a paintbrush, but at the same time the frustration knowing that you will never come to love your own masterpiece.

Remembering now Gustave Dore's painting, she imagined how much frustration and anger went into the piece. And that boy - Dick Grayson his name was. Their conversation was short, he must've remembered something important or he needed to get back to the party as he left in a rush just after they introduced themselves to each other. She wasn't going to lie to herself - she hoped it didn't just end there - though reality tends to kick in, and after a while Nicole didn't care much about it anyway. Gritting her teeth in annoyance, she shoved her hands in her pocket giving up looking for her keys in her bag. Her frustration died as she felt the keyring of her keys and slipped her finger through. She brought it up to unlock her door, noticing a ripped piece of paper wedged between her Winnie the Pooh keychain and her several other keys. Taking it with two of her fingers, she squinted at the note scrawled in blue pen. Except there wasn't anything interesting about it to read, other than a set of numbers - possibly a phone number.

Wait - a phone number? She smiled to herself, getting giddy at the thought of who it might be. Just when she thought she didn't care. She shoved the tiny piece of paper back in her pocket for safe keeping and entered her apartment. Apartment number 520 wasn't as shabby as it had been 2 years ago. When she first moved here the place was a mess; peeling plaster with creaking floorboards and the smell of stale mould in the air. Since then she managed to keep the place well maintained with a touch of her preference of decor, a minimalist style that's suitable for a lazy sod like Nicole who finds cleaning up to be a chore, but also one to be a gift to even have the time to do.

As she entered she reached for the light switch, pressing it once. The lights didn't come on. Probably busted. It's quite chilly in here too, there must be a draught somewhere - and that's where she saw it. The open window, the lace curtains flowing gently in the wind. Panic rose, and she immediately grabbed her phone from her bag and fumbled on its screen as she tried to get its torch light open. She rushed to the open window and shut it. Maybe she forgot to close it before she left, that's all. But then that gives time for cat-burglars to come in and steal. Her mind began racing through to what she could have left here at home that's couldn't help but blurt out a combination of curses; _Niki you idiotic fucker. Balls. For fuck's sake._ She almost didn't hear the muffled sound of footsteps against carpeted floor in the corner at the other side of the room. But she did hear it, and now she can't just ignore it. Her heart was beating so fast that it could emerge out of her chest from any second.

"I know you're there." she called out, mustering the confidence in her voice. Somehow the sliver of moonlight that sliced across the living room made her feel safe, a make-believe barrier of protection. "Give back what you stole before I call the police." No response. Or there could just be no-one there and she was just hearing things. But someone was there. Shallow breathing. The sound of cloth rubbing together. She heard a footstep again, this time much louder and the sound getting closer as she figured they started to walk towards her.

"There's no need for that."

It was a man, and as he stepped into the light from the shadows in the corner of the room, she caught a glimpse of his face. Except… she couldn't even identify him because he was wearing a mask, a black and blue suit that was skin-tight against rippling muscles. It's not everyday a burglar can be physically well-built. There was a scent in the air, catching a whiff of cologne - a smell that she recognises.

"I didn't even take anything." he took another step closer, causing Nicole to back away.

"Don't even think about coming close to me." she said with her phone in hand, ready to throw. He dared himself, taking one more step into the moonlight and only an arm's width away, as he challenged her. This time his masked face wasn't hidden in the shadows anymore. He had his hands up in the air, as if in surrender, which then slowly reclined to the back of his head. Spending her childhood in a rough east London neighbourhood - Nicole was fast too. Quick on her wit. Better yet - she can anticipate things. In the same way she's anticipated the fact that the man before her who had a smirk plastered on his face that almost seemed too frighteningly familiar, is about to reach for something behind him. She doesn't know what but just knows he will. Just as he was bringing his arms back up, Nicole without hesitation threw her phone horizontally, aiming for the criminal's forehead. He threw his head back in pain and his hand flew up to touch the sore spot, stunned at the impact and sudden throw.

Although things were happening quick and sweet, a second after the throw, he recovered. Nicole was midway in a right-hook punch to his face when he blocked it with his forearm. A left-hook blow and then another block of a forearm.

"Wait! Listen to me for a sec will you?" he shouted, feeling the force of her hooks dissipate as pain in his arms. It's evident now that this girl knows a few tricks in hand-to-hand combat.

"Burglary and foul-play? That's not a good case you got there, sir." A roundhouse-kick to his side, and he took the blow. He's not fighting back. She wants him to at least retaliate. "If you want to play in my house-" he dodged her upcoming jab, " -you play by my rules." She was ready and stanced, her hands up in fists up close to her chest. He flashed a grin towards her, unaffected yet still in the slightest bit amazed at her sudden feistiness.

"Alright - if you say so." he replied, a playful tone in his voice. He lunged at her with a high kick, but she swiftly dodged and ducked and quickly grabbed his leg from beneath, using his momentum to topple him over. He fell forwards, atop the wooden coffee table with extra force that Nicole didn't actually hope for. She took a few steps back as she heard the sound of the coffee table ripping right in the middle and watched the man before her groaning in pain and holding on to his side. Great. Her coffee table's broken.

He stood up slowly, his hair slightly dishevelled but that annoying smile still plastered to his face. "That's the best you can do, huh?"

Nicole had enough of playing around. She was fluid in her movement, even after years of not using her skill, her body still seemed to remember muscle control and the right momentum for strength. The only problem was - she got rusty in her anticipating the opponent. Before her foot even touched his face, he grabbed it. Nicole struggled trying to let go of his grip without over-stretching a muscle, but he was too fast. And clearly, much stronger. Plus - her balance was off.

The man noticed how she was supporting her outstretched leg by the weight of her grounded one, but her core was too relaxed. No support there, allowing him to use that misplaced weight and spin her around to restrain her leg, making her feel pain along her quad muscles so she had no choice but to fall on the ground on her front.

He knelt down above her, taking both hands and cuffing them behind her back.

"Playtime's over." He hissed through gritted teeth, leaning closer to her ear. "What do you know about Project Rojos?"

Nicole ignored him. "Who the hell are you?!" she shouted, hoping at least one of her neighbours will hear. The man quickly covered her mouth, her screams muffled in his hand.

"Be co-operative a bit will you, and just answer me. Now - what do you know about Project Rojos!" It wasn't even a question anymore. It was a demand.

"I don't. Fucking. Know." she could tell the man was getting aggravated. His lead was messed up - whatever this guy was looking for. He pressed her head against the floor, and Nicole started to find it getting harder to breath from all his weight on top of her.

"Then explain why your name is included in the MI6's experimental programmes. Explain why your profile is classified, high level government priority - and tell me why there is so much radiation in your body right now that could break a geiger counter - but here you are. Alive and well, Nicole Lago."

Nicole's mind raced, How does he know me? He's got the wrong person. He's got to have the wrong person - what he's saying is totally absurd! "That cannot be me, okay?! There's no way in hell! Let me go! Please…" And that's when it set in. Her mind was spinning. She looked up at the door. No. Not just one door - two doors. Wait - she was having double vision. God, did he really hit her that hard on the head? It felt like it was floating in water.

"What… Wha-What did you… do to me?" she said, her speech broken, voice faltering.

"Insurance. Don't want you try kicking my ass again. It'll only be temporary." His voice seemed like it was coming from a tunnel, getting further and further away. "Sweet dreams."

"Please. Please… Don't do… this."

And everything went black.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: And here it is, Chapter 2 in all it's glory. Enjoy!

 **CHAPTER 2**

There are some things that completely amazes you about Bruce Wayne. On one side of his life he's a known philanthropist, a mysterious man with many lovers and a man drenched in his riches. Yet - to Diana's surprise - she's never expected a mere mortal resist the temptations of wealth and commit the other side of his life to serving justice. Bruce Wayne. The Dark Knight. Batman. Whatever you call him, mask on or off, there is no denying that he was remarkable.

Diana too was named of many things. Wonder Woman is one of them. When she first laid a foot on the mortal world, they judged her. Then they praised her. Admired and adored. Worshipped. At first she failed to understand, but now she has learnt that her abilities are what keeps in them in awe. Then she fell in love with them. All their vices, evils and flaws and their ability to learn - learn in such a way the Gods will never learn. They are already perfect - Gods cannot change. The children of earth can.

Say what they will about Bruce Wayne. He is a child of earth - down to his skin he is powerless compared to Diana, Superman, the Flash and others he surrounds himself with. Yet, he is one who quietly leads - despite his many secrets and flaws - she respects him for that. For being that quiet leader - the silent thinker.

Though there are also times which she cannot agree with him. Including now.

"What do you think you're doing with the girl?" Diana demanded, stepping into the control room. He remained silent, and this is one of the times where she wished by the Gods he wasn't a silent thinker. "Batman. What are you doing with -"

"Nightwing has the girl." his eyes remained on the holographic screen, rewinding and then replaying, pausing and then playing a piece of CCTV footage.

"That girl is innocent - you can't just invade a civilian's life."

"We're in need of some answers. Somehow, she's related to the attacks."

Diana had enough. She rushed up behind him and grabbed his shoulder, turning him vigorously to face her. "That girl has done nothing. Let her go."

She just knew that beneath his cowl he was frowning at her, his eyes squinting. "She may be innocent - but she's more than just a part of this." he motioned at the screen behind him.

Diana watched carefully, walking past him to see the footage better. It was the girl. She was beautiful with dark hair, young - possibly no older than fourteen. The girl had her eyes closed, lying down with her hair slicked back perfectly, in what looked like a hospital. The room she was in was whitewashed, no sign of any other colour. Even the doctor who was checking her vitals signs lacked colour except for a pale blinding white.

And the girl in the bed, she continued to lay there. The sound of the machine continued to beep, yet she seemed as good as dead. The doctor walked around the bed, prodding her skin and writing things down on a clipboard. Diana was mildly disgusted - there seemed to be no care for the young girl at all.

The doctor spoke. "Vital signs, looking good. Ready for insertion of R-K. Test subject Nine." Next thing Diana sees is the doctor, holding a syringe filled with glowing red fluid, tapping the sides of the glass. And she watched how he injected her with the fluid. Still no sign of pain or movement.

The screen had changed image, the camera directly facing the girl who was now awake and sitting at the other end of a table. The girl had a pen in hand and she was scribbling away.

"What's that you're doing Miss Lago?" a woman asked.

"Drawing…" the girl replied, not bothering to look up as she continued to scrawl away.

"And what is it that you're drawing?"

"What I - What I felt." she stopped for a moment. Not looking up at the camera, her face hidden behind her hair. Her voice sounded vulnerable. Then she took her drawing and scrunched it up into a ball.

"Why did you do that Nicole?" the lady prodded. Diana wanted her to shut up, and instead take the poor girl in her own arms.

The girl didn't respond for a very long time. Her head still bowing down low. She was sobbing… sniffling and rubbing her eyes from time to time. Until… until her hands - they started to glow red.

And that's when she revealed her face. Her eyes. They were a fiery red too. A glowing, almost white-hot red. You could hear the lady behind the camera gasp. The footage ended - yet Diana could still imagine those searing red eyes burn through the screen.

"By the Gods…" she looked behind her. She looked at Batman, her eyes filled with tears that never fell. "What did they do to her?"

"R-K. An abbreviation for Red Kryptonite. They inserted her with it - part of a British intelligence led experimental programme."

"Red Kryptonite? What - how! Does Superman know about this?" No-one's aware such a thing exist - only everyone knows that green kryptonite is Superman's greatest weakness to his physical abilities.

"No. Diana - I need this to be between us."

There it is again. A lack of emotion. A lack of trust between peers.

"It's not that I don't trust any of you in the League. There needs to be some precautions first. Some researching into things before we act." he said, voice deep and somewhat reassuring. Yet Diana still finds it a hard time to buy into his secrets. "And we all know, Superman is a man who runs on his emotions."

It's like as if he read her mind, as if much better than even J'onn himself can do - a martian who has meta-human abilities. Though, she has to give in. There's no telling what Superman will do - he's just as stubborn as Batman.

Nicole woke up from a crazy dream. She got out of bed thinking she'd been abducted by this towering man, wearing a black suit with a blue bird on it. And her coffee table…

She rushed to the living room, panic rising in her chest, but once she spotted her coffee table there sitting in the centre of the room right where it's meant to be; in front of the telly and on top of her cream-woollen rug, Nicole had finally managed to let out a sigh of relief. The dream, it was almost too real, probably from the lack of sleep and that incredulous party. She looked down at herself wondering how she even managed to get some pyjamas on.

The morning went on as usual as any other day, the scent of fresh coffee flooding the kitchen and the sweet delicious taste of fried bacon and eggs. It was a Saturday today, which Nicole likes to spend time having a lie-in or a nice long run in the Gardens, right at the heart of Metropolis.

She switched on the television which immediately turned on to Channel 52. Breaking news: Man of Tomorrow saves lives from Shipwreck. She took a sip from her coffee, watching from her kitchen counter. America sure does love their superheroes. Huh. Superheroes. Mentioning the word felt funny, not in a laughable way but something that still felt unfamiliar - when she was living back home in London as a little girl, Batman was still a myth. Now you see him everywhere in Gotham. Nowadays there's even a chance you can run into a group called the "Bat-gang" somewhere in Hackney, London - a group of devoted vigilantes who swear an oath they'll protect their borough. Soon enough, the trend of seeing the Bat-symbol as a sign of fear became an internet sensation being subject to memes or a latest fashion trend.

Nicole was a skeptic. Whether or not you're a superhero - the world will always find ways to abuse good men, whatever their cause. The phone suddenly rang. She picked it up and held it to her ear, asking for who it is.

"Honey, why haven't you called!"

She pinched the bridge of her nose with her forefinger and thumb. "Er, yeah I'm sorry Mum. Everything's just been so busy at the lab - been working full days and sometimes nights."

"Well that's a shame, love. But make sure you're getting enough to eat! You need to watch your health, do you understand?"

Mum continued to ramble on about the vitamins Nicole should be taking and making sure having a night out with friends is alright every now and again. Nicole protested that she was fine just the way things are, and that she's coping with the rent and her monthly budgets.

"My baby's all grown up." Her mother cooed. For some reason - she still can't get over the fact it's been over two years. "Speaking of which - it's impossible that a beauty like you doesn't have a special someone yet, eh?"

Nicole's mind suddenly remembered last night at Luthor's party. She hoped afterwards that she had met him much sooner - Dick Grayson seemed like a nice guy. And nice guys are much harder to look for these days. Nevertheless, there's no need to tell her mother about a shortly shared moment.

"Mum, I really need to go - I have to get on my research soon." she interjected, hoping her Mum wouldn't notice she's blatantly avoiding the subject.

"But aren't you going to say hello to Madi? Oh and you're dad - he's been waiting to talk to you for ages."

Nicole sighed. The thought of talking to Dad is almost too unbearable. Every time her mother would insist on showing him on camera, Nicole would almost choke up into tears, but hearing his voice would be much worse. Her Dad was only 47 but he sounded too fragile… too broken. His mind shattered into pieces.

"Niki! Where are you gone? I went to wake you up this morning but you weren't there!"

She didn't speak, only listened to his dying voice.

"Niki? Where did you go? Come back home, your mother n-needs help cleaning the house!" A pause, and all she could hear was his raspy breath. "Julie! Julie - where are my rubies? My rubies Julie! Julie!"

As soon as Nicole heard the word, anger started welling up inside her. "Dad." her voice was monotonous. "Dad, give the phone to Mum."

He ignored her as he continued to call for Julie, adamantly asking for a dose of rubies. And then he went quiet. She can only assume he was being given what he was wanted. Nicole swore to herself, slamming her palm against the marble counter. "Goddammit!" she hissed, pain and anger convoluted into one.

"Niki."

"Mum, don't you dare-"

"It's Madi."

"Madi?" Nicole hadn't heard her sister's voice in a long time. Who she still remembered as nine year old girl seemed a lot older, and somehow a lot wiser. A great reminder of the guilt she feels from leaving home. "Madi, put Mum back on the phone."

"She's… she's busy." Their father's cries could be heard again, much farther away.

"Then you tell me, Madi. Where the hell is Mum getting rubies for Dad, huh? I thought I left knowing he's not laying hands on them again!"

"I know! I know… I was the one. I gave them to Mum."

No - not Madi. She couldn't have taken them - could she? Would she even try? Madi knows how highly addictive they are, even if they're exposed and left out to be diffused in the air, tiny micro - particles of those damned red crystals can still be ingested. Which is why they have to be perfectly sealed when they are being sold around the streets. It leaves a recognisable trace if not carefully packaged.

"How did you get them then?"

"Everyone at school talks about a guy who sells them. And Dad… he was getting worse. All his teeth has fallen off now, so he's got to have false ones. His hair is almost gone too. And there was one night where Mum woke up because he was having a fit and blood was running through his nose-"

"You need to throw it. Burn it. I don't care how you do it - keep it away from Dad. Keep it away from everyone in the house."

"If we don't give it to him, he'll die." she began, "You probably don't care anyway, you never did. This is me trying to help him live and you're all the way there pursuing your life, pursuing your stupid dreams while you just leave us here to rot and Dad turn into a bloody skeleton!"

"He'll die either way Madi!" she screamed through the telephone. Her half empty coffee cup that was on the edge of the counter, crashing to the ground. The mug shattered in small and large shards of white ceramic, the contents splattering along the tiles and wooden cupboard doors. Nicole gulped, tears already staining her cheeks, her lips and chin. She repeated herself, a lowly whisper, slightly taken aback at the harsh truth.

"He'll - he'll die anyway."

Madi hung up.

A few minutes later the telephone rang again. She chose not to answer it. The answering machine did the job, whilst she cleaned up the mess in the kitchen. Nicole was on her knees wiping the cupboards and sweeping away any pieces from the broken mug. Her mother was leaving a voicemail, but still she didn't listen. Nicole just let her speak and ramble on.

"Niki. I don't know what Madi told you, but you shouldn't blame her. She just did what she thought was best for her father. He's fine and well you know, so you don't have to worry about us!"

"Julie - you haven't given me any of my rubies yet. I get headaches without it -"

"Shhhh! Not now, Geoff. Please, just try and talk to your daughter. Say goodbye to her. Niki. Please… call us. Talk to your father - he wants to hear your voice.

"Take care, love. I - uh - I hope that you're happy there. Bring us there for a holiday will you? It'll be nice for Madi to go see the world, and maybe she'll be lucky as you and get to live for herself soon. She's a smart one Madi, always a girl you can rely on. Takes it from you I guess.

"Alright - that's us gone. I need to cook dinner soon. When should we talk again? Love you Niki - please don't forget that. We love you so much."

Dick Grayson was a fascination to Barbara Gordon. He lived up to the symbol that was he wore on his chest, a free bird. Even though he grew under Batman's wing, Dick finally found the courage to find himself - he never was and will never be like Bruce Wayne. Despite Barbara holding the name of Batgirl, the start of her fight against crime wasn't motivated by the same dark past that Bruce and Dick shared.

They were like father and son, and Batman too grew on her with everyone in Wayne Manor becoming part of a family - whether it was by blood or not. Her father, Jim "Commissioner" Gordon didn't even know about the nights she'd spend there, and even though she still hated lying to him, Barbara was happy where she was. She felt like she was making Gotham better little by little, helping to lift the weight off of her father's shoulders. The rooftops became her playground but Grayson - they were more than a playground. They were his home, jumping mid-air from building to building was like skipping on the pavement.

"You can't even keep up!" he laughed. Dick was silent and stealthy too. If not for the years she practiced honing her sense, a passer-by could immediately miss him in the shadows, and even she found it difficult to spot him in dead of night.

"Shutup, Grayson." she muttered to herself, following the sound of his voice. "Where are we going anyway?"

"Batman's orders." he stopped on the roof of an old apartment buildings, and looked over. She walked up beside him, putting her hands on her hips and raising her eyebrows in question.

"Don't lie to me Dick. What's this really about?" Except that she needn't to question, nor did he have to answer because she finally saw the crux of the matter, the thing that made Dick's brows furrow and grind his teeth - a set of bad habits that she's come to learn - for weeks, plus with the occasionally goofy daydream smile.

The problem here lies, was a girl who looked around their age. Almost in their mid-twenties, but not quite. Beautiful, with dark hair and brown eyes and carrying bags of groceries with struggle. She stopped by the doors to the apartment building for a rest, and took her phone out, and began to dial a phone number. The same girl that Batman and Dick, excluding Barbara have their focus on right now. She noticed the way Dick watched her intently even with the mask on. A sign of a baby crush.

"God, if you really want to ask her out that bad then why don't you just give her your-" she began to jester, until Dick's phone rang through one of his hidden compartments. Both their eyes widened; Barbara in shock of who she thinks is calling him, and Dick in fright that his incredulous ringtone of a remix of Drake's One Dance would be heard all the way down in the street by Nicole Lago. Who also happened to ring someone on her phone. They watched as her head quickly shot up to look above her. Luckily, both Barbara and Dick were covered by a chimney if someone looks up from an angle way below.

 _Answer it, or turn it off dumbass!_ Barbara mouthed. Dick went for the former, and brought the phone up to his ear and cleared his throat.

"Hey." he began, lowering his voice at the expense of Barbara rolling her eyes.

"Hi - still think you can come by tonight?" she heard Nicole from below. If there's nothing else that can surprise Barbara.. She bets that Bruce - or in fact no-one else since she too had no idea - about his little encounters.

"Yeah - I'm just on my way. I'll be there in fifteen." Another reason to open her mouth wide in shock. He was ditching her!

"Wow, that's pretty soon. I didn't even get to cook yet."

"Don't worry, I'm pretty sure we can think of something to do in the meantime."

Barbara gestured gagging motions at the slightly suggestive tone in her voice, almost afraid of what Nicole's response would be.

She heard her chuckle quietly to herself below, "Uh-huh. But I'm starving. I don't think I'll be able to have time for the both of us if I don't eat soon. I'll see you." Thank God that she didn't succumb to his charm! Another reason for Barbara to gag - watching Dick almost on the brink of some serious phone intimacy made her sick.

"See you, Niki."

They waited for the sound of a door closing. Once you get Barbara starting on a rant - it's almost impossible to stop her - like an angry bull charging at a matador's red sheet.

"So you brought me here to third wheel!" she began, throwing her hands in the air.

"It's not like that Barbara - I'm telling you it's Batman's orders." he argued, starting to remove his suit where he was wearing a plain white t-shirt and jeans.

"How did you even wear that without sweating bricks? You know what - forget it. Is it really Batman's orders to have a dinner date with one of his targets?"

"She's not one of his targets - she's just a part of all this. Besides, I'm just getting the intel he needs."

"Uh-huh tell that to Batman." she remarked. "There's no intel left on her - you told me you saw the video yourself. That was her one and only involvement."

"There's more to it." he muttered under his breath. "If Batman's keeping you in the dark about it, there's a chance that there's something he's not telling me."

"There's more to it. Huh." she repeated mockingly, "Just admit it - you're into her.

He rolled up the Nightwing suit, which when concealed from the burning blue symbol looked like a rolled up parka jacket, and stuffed it into the backpack he was carrying.

"Yeah, so what if she's cute?" he replied, suddenly sounding like his whiny fifteen year old self. Barbara grinned in joy and seized the moment to tease him, pointing at him with a hand to her stomach.

"Ha! I knew it!" she said, plastering a smirk on her face. "Dick Grayson - you need to control yourself."

He ignored her teasing. "I need to go." Dick slipped the backpack on one shoulder.

"Well, I guess that's my cue too-" she said starting to walk away.

He called out her name. "Babs." She stopped, and he threw something tiny towards her. A microscanner. "I wasn't joking about getting intel."

She held it up to her face, squinting her eyes to get a better look at it. "What do you want me to do with this?" she questioned him.

"There's an abandoned warehouse in downtown Metropolis. Heard from a guy, who heard from another guy that some drug dealer supposedly linked with the Mexican cartel, wants to introduce the red crystals to the East Coast. Unfortunately enough - people are buying and want to buy this gunk. It's not your average marijuana or the typical Class A drug - it does something more."

"And your girlfriend here…is she an example of what something more can do?"

"She's the only one who survived the high dosages of Red Kryptonite they gave her."

"What!?" Barbara sputtered. She's not liking how she's mostly being kept in the dark about this. She lowered her voice to a whisper, "What - what do you mean kryptonite? There's a new drug in the streets going around that's alien? Does Superman even know about this?"

"You know how Bruce is."

"So no. Superman's gonna freak 'til he finds out what's starting to flood his streets." she sighed whilst slipping the microscanner in her utility belt. "Alright, alright. I'll do the dirty work for you while you go enjoy a hot date."

"I figured you wanted to get your hands on something new, since Bruce isn't eager to let you in on it."

Dick was much further away now, she walked along the rooftops thinking about the man he had become. Despite how irresponsible, romantic, annoying Dick Grayson can be - he knows where his heart lies. Underneath the mask, the suit and all the layers of Batman is the simple boy called Dick Grayson - a trapeze artist who has itchy feet, who can't be in one place at once, who'll flirt with anyone - even a rock, who's serious when it needs be but most importantly - a master of playing faces.

"You owe me, Grayson. Big time." she smiled to herself, climbing higher and higher along to the rooftops.

Dick never had much time to watch movies on Netflix and just chill. Being a crime fighting hero requires a lot of fighting, so at the end of the day sleeping is a gift from heaven. Sometimes he wished he had super-strength, just so he can't feel all those aching muscles that have been over-stretched whenever he's kicking someone to the face whilst doing double flips in the air.

"You're tense." Nicole said, looking up at Dick. Her head was on his lap, her legs curled up underneath a blanket, whilst Dick relaxed comfortably on the couch. Strange that it was almost a month ago that she threw him across the same coffee table right in front of them now, which he then had to quickly replace while she was out. It wasn't easy trying to find the exact design of coffee table. Good thing they had a very generic style.

He was fiddling with her long dark hair, and his mind wasn't focused on the Godfather at all. It was too busy thinking about who he'd come across tomorrow; Paragon or a pair of amateur burglars, including what else Bruce might want about Project Rojos. It's a blessing that he's even had a chance to have a date with someone who doesn't know his identity as Nightwing - they're usually hard to come by, fearing whether he's on the brink of getting his night time adventures discovered.

"What?" he asked like a dumbfounded puppy, trying to untangle his fingers from her hair. Damn, it's feeling like one of those Chinese finger traps.

"I said," she replied, pronouncing every syllable slowly "You're tense." He raised his eyebrows. Nicole sat up, putting her hair to one side and reached over to Dick's shoulders.

"You're muscles. They're tense." She began to tighten and loosen her grip several times as she began massaging him. And it felt so good. He closed his eyes loving the feel of her soft, warm hands. She lifted them from his shoulders.

Dick's eyes shot wide open. "Hey, why'd you stop?"

"Take your shirt off, and lie on your front. It'll be easier for me." she said nonchalantly.

Getting distracted isn't usually part of the plan, but if a really pretty girl tells you take your shirt off, because it'll be easier for her to massage you on your fifth date - Dick Grayson approves of the distraction. Either he had another goofy smile stuck on his face or something written across his forehead because suddenly Nicole has her arms folded across her chest and looked at him as if he's stolen a cookie from a jar.

"Keep your thoughts clean, Dick Grayson." she mused.

"Well," he stood up and stretched, then decided to put on a little show. Dick started to remove his t-shirt over his head. Nicole sure as hell not missing the sight of his body - there definitely no denying he's hot. "When you put it that way, it's really hard not to not keep it clean."

Nicole motioned him to come back to the couch so she can sit above him as he lays himself down on his front. She rubbed and knead his back from the neck to the waist, trying to relieve the tension in his muscles. Dick had his head in his arms, hearing the muffled groans when she would successfully relax his muscles.

"Gosh, how often do you train?" she curiously asked.

Dick brought his head up to speak. "Too often." he said, a smile forming on his lips as Nicole loosened the muscles around his waist, which had been bothering him for weeks.

Nicole was momentarily silent, running her hands along his bare skin she noticed the faint traces of multiple scars, her fingers stopping at a slightly raised and longer scar than the rest. The healed skin reflected like the surface of water. She opened her mouth to speak, wanting to ask how he got them. Nicole began to worry, but refrained from the thought and decided that it may not be best to ask about his past - it's probably too soon to delve into questions. She continued to move her hands all over his back, massaging him gently. The sight of the painfully long scar scratched at her curiosity.

"Well you sir, need to have an ice bath after you do. It'll be good for the tension." she finally said after a few minutes of silence. Dick suddenly twisted his whole body around and pulled Nicole's arms gently towards him, their noses almost touching. Her eyes widened at the sudden movement, realising that maybe she shouldn't underestimate his flexibility despite his physique.

"I'd rather have you relieve the tension." his breath that smelled like mint toothpaste as it tingled against her lips. His voice was a low grumble, the feel of his warm bare skin against her palms, hair ruffled in just the right way with his deep-blue eyes grazing along her body like hot embers - Nicole just realised the extent of how much Dick Grayson is driving her mind crazy.

She was waiting for it. For his lips to be against hers - she was almost about to break away after what seemed like an eternity. Until he finally loosened the grip on her arms and let his hold fall to her wrists, and brushed his lips against hers. It started off slow and sweet, an innocent type of bliss. But both knew they wanted more. Nicole's legs were tangled with his own, and she could feel her heart skipping beats as she felt his hands wander along her body, her stomach, waist, then her thigh.

Before they knew it, they were in the bedroom. Clothes sprawled on the floor, duvet covers surrounding them like clouds, each other's hands in their hair, sweat dripping from their bare skin and the sound of their breaths, inhaling and exhaling rhythmically. He was gentle yet each movement wasn't timid of pleasuring her to great extents, and in return of the favour, she pleased him in a passionate manner with the sound of his name on her lips playing like a melody to his ears.


End file.
